


Dog Sharing, or how Ghost accidentally acquired a second owner

by cresscaptain



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Divorcee Custody Agreement for Ghost, F/M, Ghost is awesome, Joffrey was a dick, Mental Health Issues, Past Abuse, dog sharing, like actual dog sharing, shy and introverted Jon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-01-18 20:46:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12395916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cresscaptain/pseuds/cresscaptain
Summary: While picking a dog at the animal shelter, Sansa just happens to pick the one dog who has a second owner.





	1. Ghost

‘Get a dog,’ her therapist had said. ‘A big, mean-looking one that is fierce yet gentle to you. Not only could that dog protect you, but you would have a calm soul by your side.’

She scoffed. Calm and fierce and gentle? Likely.

‘Take your time finding,’ her therapist had advised after she had uttered that protest. She had protested a lot more after, but in the end, he was right. School and her life took her back to King’s Landing this winter, and she couldn’t go alone. Not after everything. So, her therapist had suggested a dog. One that could protect her, from real horrors or imaginary. One that was not as gentle as Lady, one that would not go down so easily.

Now she was at the animal shelter, looking at a three-legged dog. She was really cute but wasn’t going to cut it for her requirements list. Arya was bouncing ahead of her, looking at all the dogs and growling at them to test if they would growl back. Most just stared at her as if she were insane.

There were a lot of dogs in this animal shelter. They had looked at one before, but all the fighter dogs they had had weren’t nice and all the others were too nice.

Sansa hadn’t thought it would work from the beginning, so she wasn’t disappointed. Scared, maybe, that she would have to face King’s Landing alone after all, but not disappointed.

She stared at a little pipsqueak who was gnawing and snarling at everything he saw. She read his plate. Fighting dog, used in illegal fights. The owner discovered and the dog brought to the dog shelter.

Moving on, she saw another nice dog through the cage. She was cute, but nice dogs reminded her of Lady. Sansa needed a fighter.

Then she saw him.

He was massive, maybe the size of a pony or taller. Out of his cage, he would have reached higher than her waist, maybe even up to her chest. He was white as snow, but his eyes gleamed the colour of blood.

He was the north come to life. He was beautiful and terrifying.

She just stood and stared.

A worker approached her. “Miss, would you like me to help you find a dog?”

“That one,” she said, clearing her throat. “What about that one?”

The worker scoffed. “Excuse me, miss, that nasty son of a bitch Ghost over there will be put down today. He bit one of our workers, in fact, he nearly took his hand clean off.”

She barely heard him, advancing toward the cage. The dog looked at her. He was more like a wolf, but he sat and watched her bent down to look into his cage, a prison that clearly wasn’t big enough for such a big dog.

“The north remembers,” she told him. He started to wag his tail.

“Ghost,” she said. “Heard you’re a mean son of a bitch.” 

The dog leaned forward and his tongue lolled out.

“But are you a good boy?” 

He made a nodding motion before creeping closer to the bars. She laughed at his interpretation of the human gesture and in response, he stuck his head through the bars. 

Hesitating slightly and remembering the warning of the guy who was now close to handless, she cautiously held out her hand. He sniffed it and then gave the top a wet press with his nose like he was a courtier and she was a lady. She giggled and he wagged his tail again. Carefully, she stroked his head.

“How would you like to come home with me, Ghost?” she asked in a whisper. “Be my protector and help me through dark times? Show people what the north is worth?”

He gave a loud bark, and she giggled again.

The worker had come up behind her, and Ghost growled loudly. “Miss, step back,” he said. “The vet should be here soon. Just step away.”

She frowned. Ghost was going to be put down.

“Can I take him?”

The worker’s eyes widened. “Why would you – no, you can’t.”

“Why not?”

“He committed a crime. The law decided his fate.”

Arya had spotted her next to Ghost and when Sansa looked toward her, she gave her a thumbs-up. “I like him,” she mouthed.

It was enough for Sansa to pull out her phone and do what she had never done before.

Ask her father to throw around his weight to pull some strings.


	2. His owner

On the way home, Arya stopped her car at a pet shop. Sansa peered behind her at the back seat where the pony-sized Ghost was now spread. He had his head on his paws but wagged his tail when she looked at him. She smiled softly. The animal shelter excursion had taken a lot longer than anticipated, given that her father’s lawyer had had a quick fight with the animal shelter’s owner on the phone and, after a considerable donation and a promise not to mention this to anyone, she was allowed to take the suddenly very cute Ghost home. The worker who had helped her around had shaken his head at her enthusiasm at that thought.

They had managed to get Ghost into the car with little problem, which was good. Sansa doubted they could have pushed him in, even both of them together. Ghost really was a massive dog. 

Sansa herself was rushing with excitement. She felt a little like when her father had given her a puppy, and Lady had just been the most perfect little dog ever to grace the face of the earth.

This excitement now also came with the reassurance that if anyone ever took Ghost and attempted to kill him, he would put up one hell of a fight. And if anyone ever tried to hurt her… well, she hoped that she could rely on him to do the same for her.

Arya was nice enough to run and check if they allowed dogs in the pet shop. She came back quickly after with an affirmative response, so Sansa opened the door for Ghost.  
He didn’t even have a collar. Dogs on a death row probably didn’t usually get extra expenses, but now that he was her dog, that was a problem. She just decided to hold him around the neck awkwardly (not from the height: Ghost was so tall, height wasn’t a problem in the least).

She felt herself blush at the gazes straying toward this weird way of holding a dog, but then she felt Ghost licking her wrist, and she giggled instead. Arya cast her a strange look, but (probably because right before casting Sansa that strange look, she showed her teeth in a predatory fashion to a passing puppy) she let it go.

They browsed the aisle of dog food. Lady had never eaten anything but puppy food, so she was unfamiliar with most of the food on the shelves. They asked a passing guy in the store uniform, but he pretended to be busy after taking one look at Ghost.

“Can’t he kneel or something?” Arya asked Sansa. “He’s going to scare a lot of people away with just being, well, huge.”

“You scare a lot of people away, and you’re not huge, so how will being smaller help him?” Sansa retorted.

“Yeah, but I wish I were huge. There is a difference. Also, did you just compare me to your dog? Nice.”

Sansa sighed and looked along the aisle again. Longingly, she stared at the puppy food. That had been simpler.

Ghost shifted, moving out of her grasp. She tried to snag some of his hair, but he had already moved down the aisle. “Ghost!” she said loudly. “Come back!”

But he was sniffing at a blue package of food. When Sansa had caught up to him, he nosed it and then look back at her as if saying, won’t you give me any?

She reached for it and he began wagging his tail.

“Huh,” she remarked.

“Probably his previous owner’s food,” Arya spoke from beside her. She was examining her fingernails. “Dogs remember such things. Little food-obsessed idiots.”

The last part she cooed at Ghost, who nosed the food again insistently.

Sansa shrugged. “If that’s the food you like, then I won’t waste my time here any longer.” With Arya’s help, they managed to get the food into their shopping cart.

Next came the collar. Ghost turned up his nose at the fluffy pink one Arya held to his neck. Well, higher up.

After a while, they chose a black one, with a black lead. It was simple, but there were already enough noticeable things about a huge white dog with red eyes.

They added a couple of play stuff into the card, a squeaker toy as well as a tug toy and a couple of tennis balls. Two different pans, one for water and one for food and then they went back to the food section and fetched some chewing sticks for dental care.

As soon as they had checked out, Sansa put the collar around his neck and hooked the lead into it. Then she patted his head. “Good boy,” she told him.

On the way home, Ghost was allowed to chew on the squeaky toy and seemed content to do so, occasionally looking to the front of the car to where Sansa was sitting.

Ned was outside at the Stark residence where Sansa was staying until she could go back to King’s Landing. His eyes nearly budged out of his head when Ghost jumped out of the car. If Ghost had walked on two legs, he would have easily dwarfed Ned.

“Well, if you were looking for a scary dog, I reckon you got the scariest bastard they had,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “My lawyer had me informed that the dog already mutilated a man.”

“He’s just a big teddy bear,” Sansa defended. “Harmless.” In fact, she had no idea whether that was true. Probably not, but her father might bring him back to the animal shelter if she wasn’t careful.

As if to demonstrate her point and his innocence, Ghost wagged his tail. With his head cocked to the side, he really did look like a harmless teddy bear.

“Whatever,” her father said, but she could see that he was melting. Inside, Ned was also just a big harmless teddy bear.

Her mother poked her head out the front door. “Aren’t you going to come – oh my!”

As if beckoned by this exclamation, all the Starks started to pile out into the front yard.

Rickon was the first to react. “Oh look, it looks like a pony? Can I ride it?” And off he was, toward Ghost, who attempted to hide behind Sansa. She couldn’t blame him.

Bran was wheeling down the steps. He was still recovering from the car accident that had broken both his legs. “Cute,” he remarked mildly.

Robb came last, nearly doubling over with laughter. “Yeah,” he said in response to Bran. “Sansa can put him in her purse in King’s Landing, that much’s for sure!”

Her mother still hadn’t recovered from her initial shock of seeing such a massive dog in her front yard, but after a while signaled to all of them to come into the house. “Dinner’s ready,” she said in a shaky voice.

As if to demonstrate that he was a good boy, Ghost ate his dinner in silence, then stretched out on the front matt before the door. He did have the tendency to leave white hair wherever he went, but Sansa wasn’t mad at him for that. At the end of the evening, even her mother had to admit that he really was a well-behaved dog.

The only time he moved as the family went through their normal evening rhythms was when Sansa went to bed for the night. He got up from his resting place and obediently followed her upstairs, where she laid out a blanket for him on the floor.

“You might look like a right mean dog, but at heart, you’re a Hufflepuff,” she told him. He wagged his tail at that.

Sansa left for King’s Landing the next morning, Ghost stored in the back seat of her car. She had tossed and turned at night, as always, scared of shadows that appeared in the corner of her eye. In the middle of the night, Ghost had crawled into her bed and she’d immediately felt better. Cuddling against him meant that he could chase away all those visions and memories and she’d slept peacefully after that. A dog seemed to have been a good choice.

They arrived at her small apartment in the evening. Sansa showed him every room and told him how she’d gotten this place. Although it probably wasn’t very interesting, Ghost followed her everywhere and after they were done she fed him.

They led a simple life in King’s Landing. She went for a run sometimes in the morning, as the vet she went to see for Ghost had told her that he needed a lot of exercise, and he seemed to enjoy that a lot. She took him to work as well, for which she got him a special needs collar, and he dozed under her desk. They went to the dog park frequently as well, and although Ghost intimidated nearly every other dog there, he did seem to find some close friends.

He came with her everywhere she went. She felt a lot calmer as a result. He also slept in her bed, a habit she’d nursed overmuch, but she enjoyed having him there too much. His protective weight over the bed and on the blanket (which he hogged religiously – she didn’t know how he did it. He didn’t even lie under the blanket, but it always ended up scrunched under him.)

He met all her friends, who were impressed with him, maybe a little scared, but ended up taking a liking to him, even going so far as to constantly feed him snacks when they thought she wasn’t looking.

Ghost behaved himself wonderfully through it all. The vet had checked him thoroughly (and, like all dogs, he was scared shitless of the vet – but he still behaved like a gentle-dog, albeit a scared gentle-dog) and said she believed his previous owner had probably done a lot of sports with him. He was well-trained and well-behaved. Sometimes Sansa wondered why his previous owner had abandoned him to an animal shelter.

But Ghost was house-trained and listened to her commands, although at the beginning it had taken some time to figure out how his owner had trained him – apparently, he had thought it hilarious to have his dog sit at ‘go’ and Sansa ended up incredibly confused.

Arya came by a couple of times, each time remarking that she needed to get a dog herself, and one time attempting to sneak Ghost out with her. She had insisted that it was a joke and that Sansa should ‘chill out, her dog was cool and all, but she would never do that’. 

The most surprising bond that was formed was between Ghost and Sansa’s work colleague and friend, Margaery Tyrell. One day Margaery was complaining about Ghost leaving white dog hair all over her clothing and the next day, Sansa walked in on the two of them playing a game of tug of war, where apparently Margaery was losing because she couldn’t stop laughing. Sansa slyly remarked on the amount of white hair Ghost was losing on her clothes but Margaery shook her off with “what does that even matter, Sansa? God, you can be so childish.”

But Sansa was content. Everyone important to her whom she loved really liked or at least tolerated Ghost and she was really happy with him by her side, and there was no denying the calming effect Ghost had had on her since she’d gotten him.

 

Her meeting had been incredibly late that day and as a result stretched far longer than she’d anticipated. By the end of it, Ghost was pacing. She knew he must be dying to go outside and get some fresh air and exercise. She had whispered “I know, I’m sorry” more often than she could count and now that they were finally free to go, Ghost was tugging her toward the exit as fast as she could go with the files she had to take home. Normally, she would stop until he was calmer, but today he was forgiven: it was her fault after all that he had been locked into that meeting room for that long.

Finally, they were in the park they always went to and she could let him go free. He ran ahead of her, looking back at her a couple of times as if telling her to catch up already. She smiled at him, going faster so that he could run some more before having to look out for her again. The evening sun was shining onto her face with the remnants of what had been a warm day.

Ghost had run farther ahead then he usually did, and there was a man, walking in the same direction, a little ahead of her dog. From here, all she could see were curls blowing in the wind, but he would probably not appreciate a dog to interrupt his peace and quiet, but Ghost was getting quite far ahead. Frowning, she contemplated calling for him. 

Normally, he waited for her or looked back after he had walked for some time, but he hadn’t done either in a while. She didn’t want him to bother the man.

Making a quick decision, she set off at a quicker pace before breaking into a run. Ghost didn’t turn around. She frowned again. This was highly unusual.

“Hey!” she called out to her dog, who seemed to have his eyes set on the men. “Hey!” she called again. But there was no stopping Ghost. He was running now, too, running at the man.

After her third insistent “Hey!”, the man turned around slowly. She was close enough now to see the confused look on his face as he surveyed the park, looking for the caller.

She was also close enough to see his eyes widen when they fell on Ghost, who was in front of him, wagging his tail, his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

And she was just close enough to hear him say, “Ghost?”


	3. Stranger

Author’s note: Hey, sorry for being absent for basically a year. I participated in NaNoWriMo in November and therefore had to do other writing and then December brought a huge load of assignments and exams and after that I had writer’s blog :(  
Sorry.

 

There was not much to do but stare in horror at the young man who was now kneeling down beside Ghost, stroking his fur, while Ghost wagged his tail and licked his face. The man was laughing delightedly.

Sansa’s head was full of garbled thoughts. Of course, though her dog was pony sized and often quite scary looking, there was probably the occasional animal lover fearless enough to approach him and cuddle with him even though he or she had no idea about him, but knowing his name?

Sansa was incredibly private. There was no way anyone knew that dog without her knowing him as well. And while, with the benefit of the doubt and with the odds to one in a million, maybe this person did know Ghost, Ghost was more familiar with him than he was even with Margaery.

There was nothing to do but find out who the hell this stranger was and how he knew her dog.

So, making up her mind, Sansa determinedly walked toward where the stranger and Ghost were still cuddling.

Ghost peeked under the stranger’s arm in her direction and wagged his tail as she approached, which caused the stranger to look up.

He had dark eyes that sparkled in the afternoon sun, dark curls that were now windblown and curled until behind his ears, and a stubble. Ghost was still standing against his cotton plaid shirt and a fine layer of white hair already covered his dark jeans. His sneakers were nearly broken through and the original colour wasn’t really clear anymore.

His eyes which were crinkled with a smile became more hostile when he regarded her. It was obvious he had realised that this was her dog he was cuddling.

“Ghost,” she said, trying to establish some confidence but succeeding only in making that command sound like a question. Nevertheless Ghost crawled out from under the stranger’s arm and took his place next to her, wagging his tail and nudging his nose into her palm. She felt immediately better.

The open park did help: she didn’t like dealing with men she didn’t know, but it was clear from the many, many pedestrians that she had nothing to worry about.

And it was clear from the more hostile glance at her from the dark eyes of the stranger that there would be a confrontation.

Before she could say anything (attack is the best defence), the man had stood up, brushed the mixture of grass, dirt and dog hairs off of his pants and had spoken himself.

“How do you know my dog?”

Whatever she had been about to say was now wiped from her mind. “Your dog?” she said, raising an eyebrow before glancing pointedly beside herself where Ghost was perched, looking between them with his tongue lolling out of his mouth. When he noticed her attention, he sat down and wagged his tail against the soil as if to tell her that yes, he had indeed been sitting there like a good boy all this time and yes, he did deserve a treat, didn’t he?

She smiled against her will, then turned back to the stranger who was now scowling at her.

“Well, he was my dog first.”

“Well,” she answered, “I guess one can officially say that a dog owner forfeits his rights to ‘his’ dog when he gives the animal to be put down in an animal shelter.”

Rather than having the desirous effect on the stranger (preferably him going to hell via a hole in the sidewalk), her response only seemed to shock him. His hand flew to his mouth.

“To be put down?”

“Yes, and you as his owner should have done something about it. I rest my case.”

She looked at him defiantly, but her fierce stare was met only with terror. He glanced at the dog next to her as if assuring herself Ghost wouldn’t fall over now. Ghost, the traitor, wagged his tail at him and patted toward him loyally.

“Look,” the stranger said, running a hand through his curls and avoiding her eyes. “Ghost used to – is my dog. I’m sorry that you...”

“If he’s your dog, then why on earth could I adopt him in an animal shelter, then?” Sansa crossed her arms over her chest, feeling defensive especially now that Ghost had opted to go back to the stranger’s side rather than hers.

The stranger looked at her then and his dark eyes which had first seemed unfocused were now fixed on her. “I – there was an accident. I was brought to the hospital, but I wasn’t – well, conscious for a while and when I did wake up, Ghost was gone. I couldn’t go to the accident site for a while, so I sent my colleague, but he had vanished. Completely. As soon as I was better, which took a while, we scouted every field and forest in the area to try and find him, but...” he trailed off and sighed. “I assumed that he had been taken in by an animal shelter, but we couldn’t find a website in the entire area that had his picture or his description included. And, well, a pony-sized white dog who is a mean son of a bitch to anyone he doesn’t trust shouldn’t be that hard to find. So I assumed some hunter had shot him because he attacked.”

He stared down at Ghost who was leaning against his waist, and patted him with a wry smile. “Not that he isn’t a total pussy in real life, but...well.”

Sansa nodded against her will. That sounded all too plausible, and there was no way he could have been some kind of bastard, even if he was Ghost’s first owner. Ghost was very intelligent and Sansa was convinced that if he had been abandoned or mistreated in any way, Ghost would have probably killed him on sight.

She didn’t want it to be plausible, not in the least. It meant that she had to give up Ghost.

“Well,” she said, not knowing what she wanted to say but she could also not keep silent. It felt like Ghost was slipping through her fingers (although he was massive and would probably leave enough hair to built a life-sized statue of him, so the metaphor probably wasn’t very accurate.)

Ghost, feeling her pain walked over to her, but she didn’t want to pet him again. She felt incredibly close to tears and didn’t want to set herself of in any way.

“I guess...” she murmured at last, hoping he wouldn’t hear the next words, “I guess he is your dog...”

But instead of grabbing the advantage, he looked at her under lowered brows, looking her over and then glancing at Ghost still positioned beside her before squaring his shoulders. He started speaking with a deliberate air about him.

“You know what?”


	4. Meeting

Author’s note: Hi, sorry to be missing for so long and sorry that this is such a short chapter. I’m in exam stress (again, I know, but I swear I’m not using this as an excuse, I just write about twenty exams throughout one semester because I took way too many classes.) There have also been some issues in my life relating to rape that really put a strain on my mental health, so let’s see how it goes.  
And no, I don't know how to use the Chapter Notes, but now it's become a way of life.  
Also, I made this a duel point of view.  
Cheers!

 

There was no way.

When Jon had walked past the dog park today, wincing slightly from where his leg was rubbing against his skin, he had never expected this to happen. He had never expected the massive white mass that was his old dog, his Ghost, to show up, ready to pet and play like they had used to do.

After his accident, he had searched far and wide. He knew that Ghost was strong and that he was smart. He had been with him in the military after all. Sam, the only person who cared whether he lived or he died, had not found Ghost while Jon had been out. After he had woken up, there had been physical therapy and adjustments to his lifestyles, but Jon had really tried not to let that slow the search for his only real friend. He had called every animal shelter in the province, even going as far as contacting several located at Winterfell and near the Wall even though he had crashed close to King’s Landing. He knew that Ghost was a northern dog: after all, Jon had not just adopted baby Ghost from there, he had also served at Castle Black with Ghost by his side.

It wasn’t fair, he had often mused. It wasn’t fair that after all this time of putting his friend into constant danger through military operations and other dangerous lifestyles Jon had led throughout the years he would vanish because a drunk driver crashed into their car on the main road.

He hadn’t been able to find his dog anywhere. Contacting the police didn’t make a difference either: they had been apologetic, but there was nothing they could do. Finally, he had accepted that Ghost had probably been killed by some scared hunter.

But now, Ghost was here, in front of him, standing by this woman who claimed to be his owner.

She was pretty, there was no denying it. She had red hair that hung down her back, big blue eyes, and pale skin. A hat had been pulled over her head and she wore a brown jacket over what looked like simple business attire: jeans and a button-down.

It took a lot out of Jon to focus on her. Here was the dog he had spent months looking for, tearing the world apart and she had him. Her hostility to giving him up had made no sense at first: his mind was filled with the racing of the same thoughts. Ghost was here, Ghost was alive.

Finally, after his brain had calmed down a little, he had acknowledged to himself that it would be no victory to win like this. She had looked small and helpless and it was clear to him that Ghost loved her.

Before he could think about it too much, he had said, “You know what?”

And now he would have to deal with whatever happened now.

The woman furrowed her brow. “What?” she asked back.

What indeed, Snow.

“Well,” he started. “Well – I’m Jon, did I say that already? I’m Jon Snow.” He was, as always, tempted to add his military title in with his name, but he didn’t. No one reacted well to him doing that.

Awkwardly, he held out his hand. She stared at it as if he was offering to pierce her with a dagger.

“Sansa,” she said, pulling her collar up slightly and wrapping her arms around herself. “Sansa Stark.”

“Well,” he started again, tugging his hand into his pocket and feeling like an absolute loser doing so, “I – well, I mean, he is your dog, too, isn’t he, and I – well, I thought it would be mean if – well-” He blushed.

Talking to people had never been Jon’s strong suit, which is why he had avoided that path in his life as much as possible. He had been a great Commander at the military, motivating others to do their best and support their comrades, but this was not commanding. This was not doing as he was told.

His therapist would not be proud of him at this moment.

The woman – Sansa – blinked. “I adopted him in an animal shelter. He was not with you then, but he still technically belonged to you, I – heck, the only reason I know his name is Ghost is that they told me at the shelter!”

Jon remembered buying a hand-stitched collar with the plain and simple word Ghost on it for Ghost’s last birthday (he was such a nerd.) Someone had probably found him with it still attached. His pride had made him not add contact information – he believed Ghost would never run away and even if he were taken away, he would always find his way back to Jon.

He had thoroughly regretted that choice in the last months.

“Well, I – well, I mean, that still makes him your dog in some ways. You took care of him and – and loved him and me, well…” Stop saying ‘well’, Jon, he chided himself. He cursed the fact that all his adrenaline which had kept his speech clear during his initial confrontation with Sansa had vanished. “Well, I would just not feel well taking him away from you like this.”

Sansa was still standing in front of him, brows furrowed, looking almost angry. But as his words sunk in, the crease between her eyebrows faded and her eyes became clear. She glanced at Ghost between them and there was so much hope in her expression. Ghost looked back at her, wagging his tail. Then he looked at Jon, wagging his tail at him as well.

“Look,” Sansa said finally. “I work at a law firm and we just recently had a case – very unconventional, a father who didn’t know he was the father because of some misunderstanding – and they came in to draw up a custody agreement.” She was looking anywhere but at him. “Approaches to cases like that are always hard, because you don’t know about the people and sometimes they just fight and fight and fight and you already know that the solution you’re attempting to draw up will in no way cut it with their insane expectations because they will get into some fight again, but…as a first approach, it never hurts to try something like that.”

“What?” he blurted out before he could help himself. There was just so much to take in at once. “You…” his brain was only now catching up and he drew his eyebrows together, “You want us to treat Ghost like we’re a divorced couple and he is our child?”

Sansa was looking anywhere but at him. “Yes?” she said carefully. “Or no? Maybe? I don’t know. I just think we could attempt to face this problem in a head-on way and this would be a place to start.”

“Well,” he said, immediately cursing himself, “in that case, should we get some coffee?”


	5. Custody Agreement

Author's note: Sorry for the long absence. Not going to lie, will probably happen again.  
Enjoy anyway!

 

Sansa felt strange, walking to a café with a stranger. It felt like just the thing her therapist would ask her to do as an exercise. That she was doing this on her own just intensified her negative feelings.

Still, she wasn’t being fair. Even though she had just met this man, he really did seem to care about Ghost and Ghost clearly adored him. He was offering her a way out where she could still spend time with Ghost and yet she was feeling bad about this whole thing.

Carefully, she breathed deeply through her nose. It was getting dimmer, as it was now late afternoon. Jon Snow was walking some distance away from her, limping slightly. Ghost was by his side, sniffing his leg and pressing close to him.

He noticed her gaze and looked back at her. His cheeks reddened and she sensed that he probably didn’t have a lot of human contact in his daily life. She tentatively smiled at him, but he looked away before he could see it.

Ghost ran his nose alone his leg again and this time Jon stumbled. He caught himself before he could fall, but Ghost was still there the moment he had stumbled, offering himself up as a shield.

“Are you…okay?” Sansa asked torn between coming closer and taking a step back. Jon was still a stranger.

She opted to come just a little closer. He was petting Ghost.

“Yes,” he said. “This…this is still a little strange.” Jon motioned to Ghost. “Of course I’m overwhelmingly happy to see Ghost and know that he’s alive and well, but…” he looked away. “The accident changed me. Mentally, of course, but…physically as well. He doesn’t know this, but he senses it.”

He took a deep breath and sat down on the sidewalk. Sansa remained about a step away, just in order not to become too close. She didn’t want to step into his personal space.

And, even though he seemed nice, he was still a total stranger. She had learned the hard way that people could pretend to be something they weren’t, especially if they wanted something.

Carefully, Jon pulled up the trousers on his leg. Ghost was there immediately, sniffing, then barking. Taller than Jon now that he was seated, he leaned down and began to lick his face.

Jon laughed, the sound a sharp, hacked relief from the silence. It was a surprised kind of laughter that lasted only a couple of seconds and clearly hadn’t been in use for a while.

He leaned back as Ghost climbed on his lap almost completely, and then Sansa saw it.

The area of his trousers he had pushed up for Ghost to sniff at was still pushed up and exposed part of his leg.

His prosthetic leg.

Everything inside her froze.

Jon had lost his leg.

She remembered that just a moment ago when he was about to show his leg to Ghost, he had talked about the accident changing him physically. Still, she hadn’t expected such a radical change.

When he looked up at her, she immediately turned and stared insistently at a tree in the opposite direction, not wanting him to notice that she had been staring at his leg. 

Carefully, she turned around again. He had pulled his trousers down and was leaning on Ghost to get up.

“Shall we go get that coffee?” she said for lack of any better thing to do.

He looked up, startled, then nodded. “Yes.”

Together with Jon in the middle of them, they made their way down the street to one of the coffee shops that were everywhere here. It was a cozy little shop: decorated with pictures of trees in all seasons. The tables were coordinated to those pictures: there were sections of tables themed like trees in each season. The shop itself was called ‘Four Seasons Café’. Very fitting, Sansa thought.

There were currently only a couple of people in the winter section. Otherwise, it was empty.

When they entered, an employee came up to them and pointed at Ghost. “He can’t be here.”

“Do you not allow dogs?” Jon enquired.

“Yes, but not in that size.”

Jon raised both his eyebrows even as his cheeks turned red. “He’s a special needs dog. I rely on him.”

The employee coughed lightly, covering a laugh. “Likely story.”

Jon, now very red, knocked hard on his leg through his trousers. It made a hollow tapping sound no leg should make. “Do I need to take off my leg before you believe me?”

The customers in the winter section were taking notice. One of them started to get up.

Now the employee turned red as well, noticing the attention and his error. “Certainly not, sir. Please, sit down. Your coffee will be free. I apologize so much for this inconvenience.”

As soon as the employee had gotten them settled and had taken their orders, Jon deflated into his chair. Ghost rested his head on his knee, looking up at him like an adoring puppy rather than a bear of a dog.

Sansa cleared her throat, not sure how to continue. She wondered if Ghost really was a special needs dog and if yes, for what. “Shall we get started?”

Jon looked up, nodding. He ran a hand across his face, looking immensely tired.

In that moment, Sansa was ready to throw in the towel. It was Jon’s dog: Ghost adored him. Sansa had been a temporary owner, but that was over now. Even though it broke her heart, Jon should have his dog back.

But then he sat up and said, “Yes. Yes, let’s do this.”

It took about three coffees more to put some sense into the actual custody agreement.

They learned that they lived about fifteen minutes apart by car, less if there was no traffic. Sansa worked during the week and could take full care of Ghost on the weekends. Jon was still unemployed as he had lost his job during the aftermath of his accident. Recovery and physical therapy had left him unable to attend work for a while, so now he had nothing.

“We have to rediscuss this when you get a job,” Sansa had said. Jon had shrugged like he didn’t believe that would actually happen. She had wanted to dig deeper, but it was his business after all.

Finally, they had come up with a couple of basic terms:

Jon would have Ghost from Monday to Wednesday while Sansa would have him from Friday to Sunday. Thursdays would be the day they switched every week, once Jon’s day, once hers.

“If we want to take him somewhere or something in the other person’s time, we have to notify the person a week in advance and discuss the terms,” she said as a conclusion, putting it all on a crumbled piece of paper she had found at the bottom of her purse.

Jon nodded. They both signed it, and Sansa put it in her bag.

“I’ll make you a copy,” she promised.

They also exchanged numbers.

There was nothing left to do now. It was Wednesday, but because Ghost had spent the last couple of months and Sansa’s place and, despite having kept all of Ghost’s things, Jon was absolutely not equipped for a dog, they had agreed Ghost would come home with Sansa that night but spend the day tomorrow with Jon.

Awkwardly, they left the café together with an employee clearly happy they were finally leaving. They didn’t speak a word anymore.

The sun had set almost completely. A couple of pink stripes were left, but still Sansa shivered from the cold. She had no idea what time it was.

It felt strange, all of it. When Jon leaned down to hug Ghost good-bye and Ghost tried to walk after him. The knowledge that in a couple of days, tomorrow even, Ghost would go home with him. He wouldn’t sleep in her bed, cuddle her to sleep at night.

Jon has a right to his dog, too, she chided herself as they walked home. He won’t have him all the time anyway, just half.

It didn’t stop the tears that fell into Ghost’s fur that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> (Now comes the cringy self-promotion)  
> I have (just got) a blog in which I talk about my independent writing projects and about my own personal journey a little. Would you like to be friends? Come visit me! (See, told you it would be awkward)  
> emilyann273239016.wordpress.com - sorry for all the numbers: I'm a struggling student who can't afford more.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment below.  
> Seriously. It takes two seconds to write something. Do it.


End file.
